


Not a Woman of Tears

by viivianite



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/F, F/M, Mentions of Tuckington, canonical death mentions, many angst, spot the references from other fics lmao, the remaining a.i. is taken by unsc so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 20:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7284436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viivianite/pseuds/viivianite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carolina allows herself to break out of that soldierly shell to be more emotional. Even if it’s for three days straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Woman of Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is my first fic here on Ao3, so please bear with the length. Comments and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated.

Carolina is not a woman of many tears.

When her mother died, even at the age of fifteen- the age of angst and of drama and of high school- she shed two tears, and that was it.

For York, it was easily difficult to do the same. They were significant others, yes, and she never got that final chance to say sorry- yet at the same time, she was older now. Heeding her mother’s advice, she moved forward. He never said goodbye, not in the traditional sense.

“I understand why she did what she did. I just wish she hadn’t.”

Carolina wishes they could share this life together– of familial acquaintances and useless squabbles. He‘d like it, she muses. Would fit right in without trying.

She feels nothing for her father. Not anger, not hate. Just disappointment.

Her mind strays to Epsilon. Church– the one person she‘d allow to inherit that name.

She grew up an only child, but knew of siblings. She had friends who had older brothers and sisters (condescending, but protective), and she had friends with younger brothers and sisters (cocky, yet they had an air of wisdom about them, one she could never decipher). She supposed she was the older sister, making Epsilon the younger brother.

They were close— definitely closer than she and her father, and perhaps closer than she and York (not Allison, though. She doesn‘t know if that bond could ever be topped by another).

She shed quite a few tears for Epsilon. It makes her fairly embarrassed– she thought she would’ve been over it after the first time, but the tears flow four times– between her and Kimball (Carolina is grateful by how unsurprised Kimball is, soothing her nerves as she bawls her eyes out), her and Wash (that doesn‘t last as long, she ends up laughing at how uncomfortable he looks. ”Still as awkward as the old days.“), and her and the Blood Gulch Crew.

She expects the reaction to be more awkward when she breaks down in front of the Crew, but they turn out to be the most understanding. Especially Grif and Caboose– she makes a mental note to talk to each of them privately, they both need a good talk. However, later Caboose mutters something like ”Is Church really not coming back?“ and everyone looks away with the shame of silence.

She notices how Tucker reaches for the back of his head more often: when he talks of the ”shitty ass canyon“, or when he talks about "stupid fucking Church with his crazy ass plans". Wash notices too, and she finds them side by side more often.

That night, Carolina faces the walls of her confines, grey like grief with a seemingly ghostly glow of cobalt. That’s what set her off, she thinks- she bundles herself in the blanket, despite the humidity of the atmosphere. She could’ve saved him- if it hadn’t been for her arrogance.

She thinks that the others might’ve felt the same way, judging by the way the tension mounts during conversations about Epsilon. Even Sarge, senile and loud as he is, pipes down from his rant, shifting his attention to the bluebonnets.

Letting her quiet sobs subside to shudders, Carolina cautiously pulls the blanket over her head. Wonders if Texas would’ve been created had Allison lived, wonders if Wash would’ve been so serious had Epsilon not ravaged his mind, wonders if she’d be this bitter if her team hadn’t been so distant, wonders if she could’ve saved Epsilon if she hadn’t been so arrogant.

“I wish she could've learned to let things go. I guess I should too.” 

Carolina pauses for a moment- wonders if York finally let go when he met Tex. She stops wondering after that, and relaxes her posture.

Carolina is not a woman of many tears, but just this once- just this one time, she let the tears flow freely.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at viivianite on tumblr.


End file.
